"Romeo and Juliet" by the National Ballet of Canada

(Four Seasons Centre, 25 November 2011)

The plot of a silent film noir has been adapted for stage by Shakespeare, stripped of words by Prokofiev, animated by Ratmansky, and competently performed by the National Ballet company. An adaptation of an Oscar Wilde plot to Stravinsky or of "Le Cercle Rouge" to Berlin would be equally natural ballet projects. Nevertheless, the National Ballet have splashed on resuscitating "Romeo and Juliet."

Understatement works in life, on the screen, and in small spaces. Whether it can work also in an opera house cannot be determined by watching “Romeo and Juliet,” which does not deal in understatement. When characters are minimal, understatement is the appropriate mode to communicate the depth of their emotions, for any all-caps dancing would only reveal the shallowness of their intellect. Exuberant music, exaggerated movements and pantomime, and no variation in the intensity of the narrative prevent one from being immersed into the ballet.

It is hard to choreograph a five-minute dance. It is nearly impossible to choreograph an entire ballet. A twice-in-a-lifetime inspiration is required for that. That this inspiration would culminate in just another iteration on "Romeo and Juliet" seems improbable. The present iteration lacks class.

Some movements in the ballet seem to be stretched to the physical limit because the textbook has it so, not because the parts require it. So, there is no surprise and no relief in the discovered freedom when the dancers accomplish the superhuman. The moves' destinations are poorly marked and seem divorced from music, which is phrased clearer.

Sonia Rodriguez has a gymnast's physique and bearing, which suit well the character of the under-age Juliet. But to assume that the audience shall be interested in the character of the under-age Juliet is to stake the ballet's success on the success of its weakest element. Change the character, jazz up the music, kill the plot, un-Lego the choreography, cut, cut, and cut, and select the dancers who make for a plausible romantic duo (hint: use Elena Lobsanova and Guillaume Côté).

Often, to forget an inventor is to pay him a compliment. Best discoveries stimulate further improvements, which quickly overshadow the original. Thus, whether one believes that Shakespeare was any good, Shakespeare deserves to be improved upon and forgotten, as Aristotelian physics has been.

The bored orchestra seem outdated. In a pit, they create a barrier between the audience and the dancers. Technology amplifies individual creativity. There is no shortage of amplifiers to be compensated for by multiplying the number of resident musicians. Hiding artists in a pit is demeaning. So, use a recording. Or put the musicians on stage (they, not the dancers, are the stars of the "Dance with the Mandolins"), revise the music until the musicians enjoy being a part of it, and then make them the centrepiece of the performance.

It is a waste of dancers' talents to have four couples learn the protagonists' roles in order to perform for a fortnight. It is a waste of taxpayers' money to rehash an old ballet instead of innovating. It is a waste of classical musicians to tuck them into a pit. With patrons willing to pay for all that, the National Ballet can afford to assume some risk.